


Fine

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: What happens when Mulder turns up at Maggie's house, when Scully is there? Slightly NSFW.





	Fine

It’s hardly a surprise that she went to her mother’s, but he’s still edgy that she hasn’t called him. Well, hasn’t called him in the last six hours. She left a message earlier, but he was out for a run, pounding Padgett’s face with each step on the wet bitumen. The puddles sprayed out and he saw blood spatter. Each dull thud of his runners on the surface was a fresh blow to the chin, the jaw, the solar plexus. The run was one of the most satisfying he could remember and he relished the sharp drags of breath in and out as he ran a glass of water and checked his messages.  
Now, it’s been more than enough time for him to see her lying across his floor, blood wicking out of a non-existent hole in her chest where her precious heart had been removed. He steps into the shower and lets the horrific scene evaporate with the steam around him. Like it never happened.  
He’s missed another call by the time he’s dried and dressed and this time he simply heads to the car and drives.  
The house is in darkness and he calls Scully from across the road. Her voice is cautious, coy even, but she opens the door. She’s fresh from a bath and robed in pale blue cotton. Her hair is damp and curls under her ears. I’m Dana Scully, I’ve been assigned to work with you. She was that young and life was that propitious once. And he feels it again as she ducks her chin into her neck and lets him pass.  
“I was just making tea, Mulder. Would you like some?”  
He nods and follows her to Maggie’s kitchen which is as homely as he expected. He sees Scully in the flowing fern on the table and the herbs and spices alphabetical in the rack and the portrait perfect bowl of fruit. He sees her in the fine china cups and the ladle holder displaying an image of a perfect dusky pink rose. He sees the family photo on the fridge and he looks back to Scully who offers him a smile somewhere between safe and apologetic.  
“I’m fine, Mulder.”  
“I know that. I just…I wanted to…”  
“To what?” She blows the steam from her tea and it curls under her nose.  
He shrugs. He doesn’t know the right words. For a man whose life has been dominated by the arcane and the mysterious, he’s often stuck for the most mundane utterings.  
“I was terrified,” she says. “I could feel it happening and I couldn’t stop it, I could smell his breath on my face, his fingers pushing in through my skin, I thought I could hear…”  
He sits at the table next to her. “Hear what?”  
“Hear his thoughts.” She looks down at her tea cup then and her shoulders roll forward, like this admission is shameful.  
“And what were they, Scully?”  
She lets out a small sound, like she’s trying to blow the memories away. “It’s not real, Mulder. It was me transferring my fear onto him. And he wasn’t real.”  
The skin on his forehead is warm as he scratches across it. “I thought you were dead. You were so white and..and there was so much blood and you didn’t move. I thought you were dead.”  
She gets up and goes to him. Her arm is warmth and comfort hope around his shoulder. The soft fabric of her sleeve sits across his neck and cools him. He catches a waft of her shampoo as she bends down to kiss his head. He knows she’s alive. He can see her but feeling her and smelling her makes it more real. He twists slightly and catches the underside of her chin as she moves back. She hesitates, exhales, moves down again, turning so her mouth presses to his. She doesn’t stop and he feels like he’s seventeen again, pulling her to sit on his lap, running his hand up and down her back. She isn’t wearing a bra and this fact registers as he parts her lips and moves his tongue into her mouth, tasting peppermint and heat and surprise. Her hand is insistent at the back of his head, fingers feathering through the hair at his nape. She is making soft sounds at the back of her throat and her breathing is heavier through her nostrils; her nose is pressed against his cheek. They break and she pulls back, her face opening up to him, blossoming with embarrassment until she smiles and he sees the redness is passion and lust. She is so beautiful in that moment, as she wavers on the edge of something, something she sees as illicit, breaking the rules. She shakes her head slightly and he can almost hear the warring sides of her internal debate. He wants to break it up, to get the two sides to agree. That this is a good idea; a great idea.  
He runs a thumb and forefinger down her cheek and over her chin, lifting to touch her bottom lip. She closes her eyes and he watches her for a beat. When she opens them again, she is settled. There is determination in her gaze and he kisses her again, pulling her closer, feeling her breasts press against him.  
“I should probably go,” he says, when he lets her go.  
“Probably,” she whispers, and she stands up.  
The loss of her warm weight is a shock and he stays sitting as she puts their tea cups into the sink.  
“Mulder, why did you come here?”  
“I needed to know you were okay.”  
“I’ve been calling you, leaving messages.”  
He stands up. “I needed to see that you were okay.”  
She giggles, out of the blue, and presses her hand to her forehead. “I think you can see that I’m fine.” She shakes her head then, no longer laughing. She straightens her hands by her sides and looks at him. “In fact, I feel more than fine now. You…Mulder, you’re a good kisser. I haven’t…I mean, it’s been a long time since anyone kissed me like that.”  
Hearing her say those things makes his heart race and his throat is suddenly dry. He can feel his cheeks burn. Should he thank her? What does one partner say to another during an admission like this? They’ve shared deep secrets before, they’ve witnessed amazing things, horrific scenes. But this is so deeply personal he’s at a loss for words  
“Mulder, would you like to stay?”  
He blinks.  
“Would you like to stay here? It’s late.”  
“Scully, you don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine.”  
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. I want you to stay,” and she’s taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom and pulling back the covers. She turns away and takes off her robe. She is wearing a long fitted vest over jersey shorts and it clings, revealing the dark outline of her nipples. She slides into the bed. He unbuckles his belt and slips off his jeans and shirt so he’s just in his boxers. He climbs in beside her and she smiles.  
“I don’t expect anything, Scully.”  
“Then you can’t be disappointed, Mulder.”  
He chuffs out a laugh but she catches it with her lips and he moans into her mouth. Quickly, she is astride him and he feels her heat through the shorts. His hands graze her ass as she rocks forward and back. He moves a hand round and under her vest and her breast is full and warm. She kisses him harder and he squeezes, feeling the peak of her nipple tighten against his palm.  
She pushes back and the weight of her on his groin stirs him more. She lifts her top and throws it aside. It hits the lamp next to the bed and it wobbles on the table. He pulls off his own top and drops it to the floor. She lays flat against him and he strokes her hair. He slips a hand down her shorts and inside her panties. Her bare ass is cool but soft. He sinks his fingers into the flesh and she sighs.  
“Let me take them off,” she says and climbs off him, removing her clothes in one motion. He watches as the sheen on her skin is picked up by the soft glow of the lamp. She faces him and lets his eyes rake over her. She’s embarrassed but she allows it. He removes his boxers and she licks her lip. Unconsciously, perhaps, but a hot pulse of desire sparks.  
“Come here, Scully.” He pulls her onto him and her foot clips the bedside table and it rattles the lamp again. She giggles but he rolls her over so she’s underneath him. He kisses, bites, sucks, nips and explores.  
Then there’s a knock at the door. They freeze.  
“Dana? Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine, mom.”  
“I heard noises. I thought you might be having a nightmare.”  
Mulder presses his face into the pillow, holding his breath. Scully sits up and pulls the sheet higher. The door handle lowers.  
“I’m fine. I just had a dream.”  
“A bad one?” Maggie asks.  
“No, mom,” she says, looking at Mulder. “A really good one, actually.”  
“If you’re sure you’re okay?”  
She lies back down and strokes the hairs on his chest. “I’m fine, mom. More than fine.”


End file.
